Ming-Ming liked the backyard best. The fence had a loose board nobody ever fixed.
She lifted the board and pressed shiny yellow seeds into the dark earth. Water came next, and the ground smelled like rain.
Each morning she watered the row — a little here, a little there. Tiny green spikes pushed through the dirt.
A ladybug climbed her wrist and settled on her thumb. She smiled.
Outside the fence, Leo sat on the path and watched her. He always did.
One morning she gasped. The seeds had become three thick branches heavy with fruit.
She pressed her nose to the bark and smelled sugar. Her watering can spun to the ground.
Ming-Ming tugged the fattest apple. Snap — it rolled toward the fence, straight to Leo.
Ming-Ming picked up an orange and held it toward him. Leo reached out his hand.
They broke the fruit apart and sweet juice ran down both their chins. The mango tree dropped one more for good measure.